


A Spark in the Dark

by flipflop_diva



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-03
Updated: 2012-09-03
Packaged: 2017-11-13 11:54:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/503272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flipflop_diva/pseuds/flipflop_diva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She was just supposed to be their prisoner. Nothing more, nothing less. But sometimes, things don't go as you planned. Set during Harry Potter & the Deathly Hallows.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Spark in the Dark

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Darkhorse99](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darkhorse99/gifts).



It was one thing to sit there when it was someone he didn’t know, or someone he’d merely seen around here or there, and watch while they were being tortured — even to pretend he enjoyed it — but it was quite another when it was someone he _did_ know. Even if that someone was in no way, shape or form his friend.

Which she definitely wasn’t. In fact, he didn’t even like her. But he did _know_ her, and that therein lay the problem.

Though the bigger problem was that the last thing he wanted to do was be forced to make conversation with her. But somehow, no one cared about that.

“Draco,” his father always sighed after Draco asked why couldn’t the house elves do this? It was their job, was it not? “Everyone has to play their role. This is yours. We cannot rely on servants to make sure things get done as they are supposed to.”

And with that, Draco was once again sent down to the basement, food in hand, to make sure the captives were not getting into any trouble. The old man was barely ever conscious, and Draco didn’t know him at all, so he was never a problem. But she, on the other hand …

“Draco,” she had said the first time she saw him. “I didn’t expect you to be here. Do you live here?”

She had seemed awfully calm for someone who had just been kidnapped. She smiled at him warmly, like she was greeting an old friend on the first day back to school. 

It unnerved him.

“Here’s your food,” he had said harshly, shoving it at her, and retreating as fast as he could, glaring at her the whole time. She did get that he was one of her captors, did she not?

The second day did not go much better.

“I’m quite enjoying myself,” she told him when he again shoved the plate of food in her direction and took a look around, as his father had instructed, to make sure she wasn’t manipulating any way out. “I believe I heard some Nargles outside this morning.”

“Whatever,” he growled out her as he made his hasty exit.

By the fifth day, he couldn’t help himself.

“You do realize that you’re a _hostage_ here, right?” he said. “And that the people who took you hostage are the people I work for? You understand that, don’t you?”

Luna simply blinked at him, her face serene.

“Of course,” she said. “But why should that mean I don’t make the best of the situation?”

“Because it’s not a good situation?” Draco said.

“Many situations aren’t,” Luna said. “But if you’re miserable for all of them, you might miss out on a lot of good.”

Draco just shook his head at her and disappeared up the stairs once again. But for the rest of the night, all he could hear were her words in his head, repeating themselves over and over and over.

The next day when she smiled at him again, he just sighed and handed her the plate of food, this time much more gently than he’d been doing before.

She studied him for a few moments, so intently he had to look away as he felt his face began to flush. He felt like she was seeing into his soul, and it was not a feeling he liked.

“You seem sad,” she finally said.

“Well, I’m not happy,” he snapped.

“Why?” she asked. “Is this not what you wanted? To be working for _him_ and being a Death Eater?”

He studied her face to see if she was mocking him, but he didn’t see anything that would indicate she was.

“Not exactly,” he finally said.

She nodded, waiting for him to go on, but he decided he had said enough and headed back up the stairs.

For the next two days, she didn’t say anything more than hello to him. It was like she was waiting for him to say something.

On the third day, he couldn’t help it. She was the last person he ever expected to talk to, but she was there, and she seemed like maybe she would care, and he couldn’t very well sit down with his father and have a heart to heart about this.

“You asked me the other day why I wasn’t happy,” he started.

“I did,” she said, and the way she said it made it seem like she had been waiting for this exact conversation ever since. Knowing her, maybe she had been.

“It’s …” He trailed off, still not sure if this was the best idea. “It’s different than I thought it would be,” he said.

“How so?” she asked.

“I thought it would be fun,” he said, “to show people that I’m in control. To have power over them. To hurt them.”

He paused again.

“Is it not?” she asked.

He looked at her. “Like you would ever think it would be,” he said bitterly. “You wouldn’t even hurt a stupid Nargle or something.”

Luna smiled at that. “No,” she agreed. “But some people think it’s fun. The people upstairs.”

“Yeah,” he said, then, “Did you expect me to be like them?”

“I don’t expect you to be anything,” she said. “Who did you expect you to be?”

He shrugged. And then he realized what he was doing. 

“I don’t know why I’m telling you this anyway,” he said.

“I like having someone to talk to,” she said.

“You’re a prisoner,” he said. “You’re not supposed to have anyone to talk to.”

And he left her alone again.

But somehow that wasn’t the end of it. Draco didn’t know what was wrong with him, why he kept talking to her, why he kept telling her things he shouldn’t be telling her. It was like she had some mystic pull over him he couldn’t explain. But every day, he found himself almost looking forward to his trips downstairs, and more and more he found words just spilling out of his mouth in her presence.

“Your father seems … nice,” he said to her one day. 

“Oh, he is,” she agreed. “He’s wonderful.”

“Do you ever worry about disappointing him?” he asked.

She titled her head and studied him. Draco could tell she was thinking about his question.

“Yes,” she finally said. 

“I worry about disappointing my father,” Draco admitted.

“Is that why you do all this?” Luna asked, waving her hand around.

Draco shrugged. “Maybe. Is that bad?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “Do you think it’s bad?”

“I’m not sure that it’s right.”

She nodded. “Maybe you don’t have to be like him,” she finally said, “to make him proud of you.”

He shook his head. “I don’t think it works that way,” he said. “Not in my family.”

“Oh,” she said. “That is sad.”

He shrugged. “Whatever.”

But he couldn’t let it go.

“What if you didn’t believe in Nargles?” he asked her the next day. “Would your father be disappointed?”

“Why wouldn’t I believe in Nargles?” she asked.

He tried again. “Okay, errr, then … what if you didn’t read the Quibbler? Would your father be disappointed?”

“Why wouldn’t I read the Quibbler? My father is the best …”

“Luna!” he interrupted. “Can you just pretend for a minute?”

“Oh,” she said, her eyes widening slightly in realization. “Of course.”

She pressed a finger to her lips, her brow furrowing as she concentrated on the question.

“No,” she finally said. “He’s always said opinions are like unicorns. You have to set them free.”

Draco didn’t fully get the reference, but he sighed. 

“Maybe your father will surprise you,” Luna said.

“I doubt it.”

Unfortunately, as the days went on, Draco became more and more convinced that his instincts concerning his father had been right. His father was not like Luna’s father. In fact, his father seemed to catch on to the fact the Draco was spending more time than was appropriate down in the basement, and he was not pleased.

“What are you doing down there?”

“You told me to keep an eye on her.”

“I told you to make sure she wasn’t escaping,” Lucius snappd. “I didn’t tell you to sit down and have a tea party with her.”

Draco shrugged. “She’s nice to talk to.”

“ _We_ are nice to talk to,” his father said harshly. “ _She_ is a hostage.”

The next day, Draco relayed the news to her.

“My father doesn’t like me talking to you,” he told her.

“Oh,” she said. “That is sad. I do quite like our talks.”

“Yeah,” Draco said. 

He just looked at her, not knowing what to say. Then she did something that surprised him. She reached out her arm, touched his hand.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

He blinked. “For what?”

“Being nice to me,” she said simply. “When you didn’t have to.”

From above, Lucius Malfoy’s voice suddenly echoed.

“Draco!” he raged.

Draco looked at Luna. “I don’t think I’m going to be allowed to come see you again,” he said.

“Okay,” she said.

He hesitated, awkwardly shifting from foot to foot. His father yelled again. He headed to the stairs.

“Goodbye,” he thought he heard her call, but he didn’t answer.

That was the last time he saw her, down there in the basement. Lucius decided it was more appropriate, after all, if the house elves delivered food.

Three days later, Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger were brought to the Manor as captives, and all hell broke loose.

•••

**[Four months later]**

She was sitting in the middle of what looked like overgrown weeds, digging through the vegetation, peering carefully at whatever it was she was finding.

She didn’t notice him Apparate nor did she notice him coming up the path toward her until he was right there.

But when she did look up and see him, she didn’t look at all surprised.

“Hello, Draco,” she said simply.

He kept his hands stuffed in his pocket.

“Errr, hello,” he said.

She didn’t say anything more. He shifted awkwardly.

“I don’t know why I’m here,” he said finally.

“That’s okay,” she said. “I often go places I don’t know why I go to.”

“No,” he said. “That’s not what I meant.”

She tilted her head. “Okay,” she said.

They fell into silence.

He sucked in a breath.

“I just wanted to see if you were okay,” he finally said.

She smiled. “I’m quite fine,” she said. “How lovely of you to ask. How are you?”

He shrugged. “Dunno.”

“You don’t know how you are?”

“Not really.”

“Oh,” she said. “That is sad.”

“Yeah …” he said.

This was getting awkward. He looked around.

“I should be getting back,” he said.

“Okay,” she said, then once again she surprised him. “Or you could stay.”

“You want me to stay?”

“I always want my friends to stay.”

“We’re friends?”

“Are we not?”

He shrugged. “I, err, never thought about it,” he admitted.

“I did,” she said.

“And you decided we were friends?” he said.

“Oh, yes,” she said, as if it were that simple.

And maybe it was. Because, for some reason, that thought made him smile. 

He looked around. This place, this house, this yard — it was the last place he should be. Even after everything that had happened, if his family knew he was here, with her, there would be so much hell to pay. But right now, the idea of going home just seemed so unappealing. But staying here, staying with her …

“So I can stay?” he said again.

She nodded. “As long as you want.”

Draco took a seat beside her on the ground. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll stay.”

And he did.


End file.
